


Death's Hand

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Betrayal, Coda, Episode Related, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2568059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katrina goes back to Abraham.</p><p>Episode related: Deliverance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death's Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Katrina being rescued? Well, three's a crowd. Also, I ship Katrina and Abraham. Whatever the ship name for that is. xD
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow_. Thanks for reading!

"We cannot keep doing this."

"It's only for the best, my love."

"We _cannot_ keep doing this. We cannot spend our lives running. You and Abigail, both of you have much more to do than accompanying me each and every night."

"All I do at night-time is rest, Katrina. Or read, or watch TV. As for Miss Mills, I would imagine that she goes straight to bed, given how much she laments over lack of sleep." Ichabod licked his thumb and turned the page in his book. "We are fine."

Katrina glared at him, although it went unnoticed by Ichabod. "I refuse to come to this..." She looked around. " _Prison_. Bless the Masons, for we would not have made it so far without their intelligence, but I will not stray from our _home_ any longer, simply because Abraham is looking for me."

Ichabod looked up from his book. "... Do you wish to return to the Horseman of Death?" he asked, looking around at her.

"No, Ichabod," she replied tartly, "I do not _wish_ to, but Abraham will not rest until I am back in his clutches. I am useless within you and Abigail's war against Moloch; allow me to continue doing what I was able to do."

"What is to stop Henry from taking you again, once you have returned to Abraham's home? Henry took you once; he could take you again."

"I sincerely doubt he has any more Jincan, and Abraham will not allow him to take me again."

"He did nothing to stop it the first time!" Ichabod retorted.

"If it were not for him, I would not have gotten away at all!"

Ichabod reeled back mentally, the look on his face signifying it.

"Ichabod..."

Ichabod frowned. "I do not know you, Katrina. You are not the same person that I sought for so many years ago. Nothing would have kept us apart, then; Abraham least of all. Now we are reunited, truly on a path to a better life, and you wish to return to the one person we both struggled to deceive before."

"You know that is not what I wish, Ichabod, but I must. Your duty as a Witness must be furthered by the actions of the unimportant."

Ichabod closed his book with a snap. "My duty as a Witness kept me tied to life, yet my duty as a Witness keeps us further apart. I daresay Miss Mills was correct in her prior assessment of being a Witness; it is most inconvenient."

"Ichabod-"

Ichabod tossed his book aside. "You want to go?" he asked. "Then let us go."

"My love." Katrina reached out for him.

Ichabod took a hasty step back. "Come. We're summoning the Horseman. Not that he needs summoned... he just comes to where you reside nonetheless," Ichabod muttered, and led the way out of of the cell.

　

 

"Katrina. I feared you were lost." Abraham dismounted and landed gracefully, clearing the gap between them. "When I did not hear from Henry..." He took her hands. Katrina could practically hear Ichabod bristling behind her. "I feared that he had succeeded and that you were lost forever."

She looked down at their hands. How similar this was to the past. "I would have been, had it not been for you, Abraham. Your bravery saved me."

Abraham did not smile. The lines embedded in his face seemed to speak of countless years of worry. "Henry did not speak to me of his plans. I would have denied them most vehemently."

"I realize," Katrina replied. "My question is now: will you be able to provide for me as Henry vyes for me? He is aware of where we reside; can we return there?"

"I will protect you with my life, Katrina," Abraham vowed.

She believed him. If anything, she believed that she loved her more now than he ever had. He had made a transformation to Death, the Horseman, but, at the same time, Katrina believed that he had changed for the better as well, as strange as it was to say. Death had changed him, and into something not nearly as sinister. Regarding her, at the very least.

"If you can promise my safety, then I wish to return with you, Abraham. If you will have me," she added, smiling faintly.

"Always," Abraham vowed. "Let us go."

Abraham glanced over Katrina's shoulder to Ichabod hovering in the background. The look on his face was confused, maybe slightly - but only just so - regretful. Nonetheless, he said nothing, and turned back to Katrina to help him onto his horse.

Katrina glanced over her shoulder at Ichabod as well. She smiled weakly, but the expression on his face was so stony that her smile dissipated quickly. He didn't react to her gaze and she turned away, too, to face Abraham again.

　

 

"Hey, Crane," Abbie greeted, letting herself into the cabin. "Well, Cranes, I guess, sorry, I'm not used to-"

She broke off as Crane appeared from nowhere and drew her into a bone-numbing hug.

"... Crane? What's wrong? Where's Katrina?"

Ichabod sighed; his breath ruffled the top of her hair.

"... Ichabod?" Abbie prompted, trying to look up at him. "Hey."

Ichabod was still for a moment before pulling away. "Forgive me," he muttered, taking two steps back. He looked horrible.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Abbie repeated, dropping the fast food onto the hutch. "What happened to Katrina?"

"She left." Ichabod glanced between the brown bag and Abbie. "She went back to Abraham." He looked away again, staring towards the fast food again with a look that would have simultaneously broken hearts and burned a hole through the brown bag.

"What?"

"She said she wasn't going to spend our time running, so she went back." Ichabod moved away from his perch on the back of the sofa, grabbing the food. "As if she desired to go back."

"Crane..." Abbie sighed. "You know she loves you. She makes some... questionable -" because that was the word - "decisions, but she does it for you, for us being Witnesses, you know that."

"So she says." Ichabod exhaled through his nose. "Let us eat, Lieutenant. No good will come of worrying on an empty stomach."

"We'll get her back, Crane." Abbie gripped Ichabod's shoulder tightly. "When the war's over, when she doesn't have play spy for the Horsemen. You know that, right?"

Ichabod smiled, thinly, up at her. "I know. Sometimes it most difficult to remember. Thank you."

Abbie smiled wearily and let go of his shoulder, taking a seat opposite him. "Yep. Oh, I got you a cinnamon roll, by the way."

Ichabod glanced up. "A cinnamon roll?"

Abbie reached for the bag, pulling the container with the roll out of the bag. "This." She set it down in front of him with a light _tap_.

Ichabod stared down at it for a moment, blinking. "... This looks delicious."

"Wait until you taste it."

Ichabod smiled again. This time it was more genuine. "I shall look forward to it."

Abbie chuckled softly and reached for her sandwich.

 


End file.
